Page 102 of Gemini Wicked

Despite the drumbeat of terror for my lover roaring in my ears and the adrenaline rush of violence pounding through every vein, I quiver with a sudden, wildly inappropriate urge to laugh.

Leave it to Lucius to cite the Academy Codex while someone’s holding a damn knife to his throat.

“Well, mister, you certainly got my attention,” Zara drawls, deceptively casual, at my odious parent. I can’t see my little queen from down here, but lightning lurks in her voice. “And given the mood I’m in? My attention might not be what you want, Le Chiffre.”

I need a moment to place the cultural reference. When the memory slots into place, a snort slips past my grimly set lips. Zara’s just compared my vicious bloodthirsty prick of a father to the poker-playing James Bond villain in Casino Royale.

“What I want is actually quite simple,” my father says calmly. (He never laughs, so humor is wasted on him.) “Release Ms. Ferrari now, and I’ll let your wolf live. Threaten her life or mine and the wolf dies.”

My brief flicker of levity is swept away and obliterated in a thundering avalanche of rage.

He’s threatening my Lucius.

Triggering every alpha instinct I possess.

My casting hand trembles, but I can’t summon. My heels rise from the floor, but I can’t levitate.

Fuck.

“Well, here’s the thing.” Zara still sounds casual, and I can’t read her telepathically, not with that wretched nullifying object obviously still in play.

But I know her.

I know seeing Lucius in danger makes her murderous. To protect any one of our warlocks or anyone else she loves, Zara Gemini is more than capable of manslaughter.

“I can’t really trust you,” she says to my father (quite accurately), “or anyone else in Messalina’s gang. I mean, like, that ship sailed when that shit went down on the yacht, you feel me? The way I see it, you putting that knife away’s gonna be your best shot—pretty much your only shot—at walking outta this joint in one piece.”

Now the Aquarius bitch with her faux Eurotrash accent, whom I also can’t see from down here, tosses in her two kopecks. “For pity’s sake, Zara, don’t be a fool! Threatening him of all men, it’s the worst move you can make.” She pauses. “Surely you must know who he is, yes?”

“Yeah, sure. He looks like the Goblin King. I’m guessing he’s Nikolai Romanov, the AIB guy, right?” I visualize my sassy darling’s delicious shrug. “Yay for you. Guess that puts the spy service in your corner.”

Of course, my queen sounds completely unimpressed. I bare my teeth in a malicious grin I’m certain must look homicidal.

Too bad there’s no one else down here in the dungeon with me to appreciate the effect.

Cleo Ferrari might be a household name. But, clearly, she doesn’t know how to read the room.

“Cavolo! You still don’t see it, do you, bella?” the bitch exclaims. “I am the AIB. He’s my mentor—”

“Yeah, that’s enough outta you, Sunshine. No one asked you to talk.” Whatever Zara does next wrings a yelp out of that Aquarius bitch.

Sounds like a hair pull to me.

The sound of that brief violent scuffle makes me tense. I strain against the spell that holds me until I nearly burst a blood vessel.

But it’s useless.

I can move enough to breathe, but I can’t cast or levitate. Clearly, this amulet is bespelled against all forms of Mogadon magic.

Above me on the stairs, watching the encounter unfold, Lucius and my father both go rigid. But Nikolai Romanov is famous (or infamous) for having nerves of steel and a cool head in a crisis.

“Shift and I’ll slit your throat,” my father mutters in Lucius’ ear, so quiet I can barely hear. “I’m already tempted, Professor Aries. Of all the students in your care, how dare you seduce my son?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. I barely swallow a groan of disgust. I’m the one who seduced Lucius, you homophobic idiot.

Lucius, of course, feels responsible for ruining me. Even with his back to me, I’ve seen the expression so often I can visualize the guilt written all over his agonized face.

“I won’t shift unless you threaten her,” Lucius says roughly, with a wolfish growl he can’t subdue. “Or Vasili.”

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